


In The Next Room

by starkercrossedlovers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Come Marking, Grinding, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Top Peter Parker, peter parker/original male character - Freeform, tony is turned on by peter's strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkercrossedlovers/pseuds/starkercrossedlovers
Summary: The team is in Geneva for the signing of the Accords and things get complicated between Peter and Tony.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 188





	In The Next Room

They’re in Geneva when it starts.

Peter and the rogue Avengers are there to sign the newly reworked Accords and he’s so damn excited to actually meet Captain America and the others that it sort of slips past him when Tony mentions they’ll be sharing a suite.

He can’t fail to notice it when Tony ushers him into the suite, firm hand pressed between his shoulder blades heavy and warm, and then points out that their rooms are next to each other.

 _I promised I’d keep an eye on you to your hot aunt, kid, so no late night patrols_ Tony tells him with a wry grin, watching as Peter spins around his room, wide eyed and excited.

Tony follows him out onto the balcony and watches him as he stares out at the city, smiling softly and shaking his head.

“The way you look at the world kid, it’s like you’ve just seen a miracle,” Tony says and Peter laughs, shrugs, a little embarrassed, cheeks too warm as Tony claps a hand to his shoulder and says, “Well we’ve got hours before the gala, you wanna go do touristy shit?”

And _yes_ , of _course_ he does.

Peter’s surprised when Tony accompanies him around the city, pointing to landmarks and buildings and explaining the history as well as any tour guide would. He stops when Peter eyes up a bakery and buys him the most delicious bread he’s ever tasted—Zopf Tony calls it—and then when he sees a chocolatier he walks away with enough candy to give him a stomachache and a huge grin.

By the time they make it back to the hotel Peter is flushed and hungry and tired, and Tony takes one look at him and proceeds to order enough food to feed three teenagers without spiderpowers, so it’s just the right amount for Peter actually.

He showers after and collapses face down on his bed, groaning at the sensation of the silky sheets against his skin, eyes heavy as he burrows into them. He’s not sure how long he naps for, but eventually there’s a hand on his bare shoulder, gently rocking him awake from a very pleasant dream involving Tony’s mouth and his cock, and when he rolls over and stretches, he finds that Tony’s standing over him with a curious look on his face and oh yea, he’s _hard_.

He flushes hard and stammers but Tony just steps back and gives him a tight smile, “Time to get dressed kid, we gotta go,” he murmurs, voice a little hoarse. He backs out of Peter’s room and leaves him there, pulse pounding in his cock, cheeks flushed and achingly hard.

He can either ignore it or deal with it, so he hurries into the bathroom and takes himself in hand, stroking hard and fast as he shudders and bites back groan, imagining how differently things might have gone if Tony had stepped closer instead of away.

If he had leaned down and kissed Peter.

If he had run his hand down Peter’s bare chest and then lower.

If he had slid his hand beneath Peters’s briefs and wrapped his fingers around his cock.

If he had whispered Peter’s name and stroked him.

Peter cums with a low moan, shaking and lightheaded as his cock spills into the sink. He rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and shudders again, too sensitive but still good. Heat crackles up his spine and he lets his hand fall away, breathing unsteadily as he washes his hands and wipes himself off.

When he steps back into his room there’s a suit laying out that hadn’t been there before and his stomach falls through the floor as he realizes that Tony must have laid it out. His fingers shake as he runs them over the silk, admiring the plain white shirt and vest that’s paired with a classic, slim cut jacket and narrow leg pants.

He dresses hastily and hurries out to the living area, running his fingers through his hair to try and tame it, huffing when it won’t lay straight. Tony glances up from his phone and smirks, disappears into his room and returns with a small container of something that smells vaguely spicy and then, oh god, he’s running his hands through Peter’s hair and his cock gives a valiant twitch, painful and hot and he bites back a moan.

What escapes is a whine through his teeth and Tony’s gaze flicks down to his face, over his pink cheeks and lip caught between his teeth and very carefully withdraws. “Looks good kid, gonna have to fight off the ladies with a stick,” he says, sounding like he’s not exactly pleased by that. His smirk is just a hair away from amused, leans more toward wry, and Peter doesn’t know what to say.

Tony tosses the pomade into his room as they head to the elevator, and the whole ride down Peter’s gaze flicks between his reflection and Tony’s in the polished gold doors. They look, good, together, and Peter represses a shiver at the idea that Tony picked out this suit for him so they’d look good together…like a couple.

Once the doors open it’s chaos.

The ballroom glitters with crystal chandeliers and flickering candles, the air scented with flowers and too many kinds of cologne and perfume for his sensitive nose to handle. Repressing a nose wrinkle, he follows Tony in, smiling and nodding as his hand is shaken more times than he can count, the same banal replies falling from his lips till he’s sure he could do this in his sleep.

Natasha crosses through the crowd, pausing in front of Tony to meet his gaze before reaching out and laying a hand on his wrist. She says something too soft for him to hear and Tony nods, gives her a faint smile, but Peter can see it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

She’s by his side most of the night, arm looped through his, chatting politely with people and making snide, soft comments seemingly to make Peter laugh. He sees the mirth in her sharp eyes and has to bite her lip when she comments on one particular man’s date, wondering just how much he had paid for her to accompany him and if it’s enough for the woman to ignore wrinkles in unsightly places.

Peter chokes on the champagne he’s drinking and shoots her a dirty look, shaking his head before emptying the glass. Tony has peeled away and is in deep conversation with a beautiful auburn haired woman who reminds Peter of Pepper, except this woman is lushly curved where Pepper was all lean lines.

He watches as Tony smiles and laughs, leans in conspiratorially to whisper something that makes the woman blush and nudge his shoulder as she laughs coyly. His stomach turns and he pastes on a fake smile for Natasha who doesn’t look like she buys it at all. She leaves his side eventually to go find Steve and Bucky and he makes his way to a corner of the room where he can sip on champagne and watch the party.

“Not a party person?”

He looks up, surprised and then flushes at the handsome man smiling warmly at him. He’s leaning on a pillar, arm above his head and Peter can see the firm lines of his chest and arms through his shirt and his cheeks flush at the way the man smirks.

“Uh, not really,” he admits, tugging at his tie nervously, ducking his head when the man laughs and claps a hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Well, why don’t we stick together then, I’m no fan of these things either,” the man says with a conspiratorial wink that makes Peter grin. “I’m Jason Hargreaves, CEO of Lockheed Martin,” he says, holding out his hand for Peter.

“Peter Parker,” Peter says, “Avenger.”

Jason laughs and nods, slides his arm around Peter’s shoulders and grabs two glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter, hands one to Peter and guides him out onto a nearby balcony.

The cool air makes his skin shiver and Jason smiles, “You looked a little flushed, is that better?” he asks solicitously, eyes dark as he gazes down at Peter, gaze following Peter’s lips as he sips the alcohol.

Peter nods and averts his gaze under the weight of the older man’s attention, “Thank you Mr. Hargreaves,” he murmurs, glancing up at him through his lashes.

Jason smiles faintly, “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you look like, do you?” he murmurs, stepping closer to Peter till he’s backed up against the balcony railing and the larger man is very nearly pressed against him.

His blood runs hot as Jason lifts a hand to cup his cheek, tilting his chin up and Peter’s breathing feels too loud, too unsteady and the man, he must know what this is doing to Peter, he _must_.

Jason’s thumb presses into his bottom lip, slides into his mouth and Peter inhales sharply at the taste of sweat and salt and then he closes his lips around the appendage and _sucks_ and Jason groans, swears softly and slides it deeper into his mouth.

“You’re so pretty sweetheart, look at you, sucking on me like it’s a cock. You hungry baby? You want a cock to fill you up?”

Every filthy word from Jason ratchets up the heat in his belly and he whines when he realizes he’s hard, aching and straining against his slacks and he tries to be subtle, but Jason notices when he palms his cock and groans.

“Oh sweetheart, are you hard? Does your little cock need attention?” he croons, stepping closer and nudging his thigh between Peter’s legs so he presses right against his cock.

Peter whines and rocks into it, sucking harder as Jason rubs his thigh harder into him. “That’s it baby, get yourself off, cmon, let me see you cum,” he pants, free hand coming down to grab Peter’s hand and press it into his own cock.

Peter moans and rubs at it, hips rolling and heat climbs up his spine because this is so good, so wrong, they could get caught at any moment, and he gasps, hips hitching at the thought. Jason continues to whisper filth in his ear and Peter’s barely coherent, but he can see over the man’s shoulder and when Tony steps out onto the balcony a moment later, he ducks his head and ruts into Jason harder, desperate to cum before Tony notices him.

“That’s it baby, cum before someone sees,” Jason whispers harshly and Peter chances a look up, whining when Tony looks over the redheads shoulder and meets his gaze. He sees it when Tony’s brows furrow, confusion lining his face before he takes in the positions of Peter and Jason and realization floods his face.

Jason groans as Peter rubs at the head of his cock and leans in enough to bite Peter’s neck and whisper, “Come on sweetheart, cum for daddy,” and that’s it, that’s all it takes and Peter’s coming so hard it takes his breath away.

He moans and shudders, heat filling his pants and distantly he feels Jason’s hand cover his and guide it over his cock once, twice, three times and then the older man groans and bites his neck again as he cums.

They stand together, panting and breathing heavily, and distantly sound comes back into his ears. Jason steps back and offers Peter a glass and he takes it without looking, gulping down more champagne and ok, he’s done that, he’s gotten off with a near stranger in public and shit, Tony’s striding over with a stormy look to his face.

He stands as tall as he can and shifts in surprise when Jason throws an arm around his shoulders, grinning at Tony as the older man gazes at them, expression unreadable. “Jason,” he greets evenly, gaze flickering to Peter, “Where’s your lovely wife?” he asks, too politely and shit, wife? Jason has a wife?

Peter’s stomach falls and he edges away, wincing when Jason’s arm tightens around his shoulders.

“Off in Malta with her personal trainer I imagine,” Jason replies lightly, “Where’s your lovely date?” he bites back, “she looked…familiar.”

Tony grins sharply, “Not my date.” His gaze shifts to Peter, “Peter, why don’t we bust this popsicle stand?” he says and it’s not a question but an order. Peter nods and breaks away from Jason, heaves a sigh when Tony’s hand lands on his shoulder, tightening when Jason grins at them.

“Is he yours then Stark? If I’d known I wouldn’t have played with him.”

Peter can feel Tony stiffen beside him, anger trembling through his limbs as he manages to paste on a sharp grin, “He’s not mine Jason, and he’s certainly not a plaything. Tell your wife hello,” he snaps and then pushes Peter out into the ballroom, through a set of doors and into the hallway.

He’s scarily silent as he pushes Peter into the elevator and hits the button for the penthouse before stepping back, dark eyes disappointed and angry. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he snaps, and the last thing Peter sees is his dark eyes looking sad before the doors close.

—————

He showers and throws his suit into a corner of the room, curls up on his bed and cries, arms around his middle as he remembers the way Tony had looked at him; disappointed and worried and angry.

He wipes at his eyes and sniffles, gut churning before exhaustion draws his eyelids down, heart heavy as he falls asleep.

—————

He doesn’t know what time it is but it must be late because it’s still and dark and quiet in the suite but then, why is he awake?

He hears it a moment later, a breathy moan that anyone else wouldn’t be able to hear, but with his super senses it’s easily recognizable. There’s a low chuckle next and then a murmur of something too soft for him to hear and then a louder feminine moan.

He realizes what’s happening and flushes, jolts off his bed and searches for his suit, if he can get out of here he won’t have to hear—

_Yea baby, you like that? Gonna ride it till you cum?_

It’s Tony and…Peter flushes when he hears a deep masculine moan and then the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh and soft breathy moans get louder as they speed up.

To his horror he realizes he’s hard, and even worse, he can’t stop listening. Fingers clenched tightly in the fabric of his suit, he debates for half a minute what to do and then the choice is made for him when Tony groans and there’s a squeak of springs and the sounds get louder, faster, harder.

_Yea, c’mon, soak my cock, lemme hear you moan._

Peter huffs and collapses onto his bed, burning with shame as he shoves his hand into his briefs, moaning when he feels how wet he is. He strokes hard and fast along with the pace Tony’s setting and imagines its him Tony’s saying these things to.

_So tight, feels so good, yea baby, like that_

Peter bites his lip and shoves two fingers into his mouth, getting them slick before he reaches for his hole, circles it until his hips are jolting off the bed and his whines get louder, more desperate.

The woman next door is getting high pitched, crying out at the force with which Tony’s fucking her, and he nearly matches her when he shoves two fingers into his hole, cock jolting and drooling.

Tony groans loudly and Peter shivers, curls his fingers and moans as Tony makes a gutted, almost pained sound and Peter realizes in a blaze of heat that he’s cum, and then Peter’s spilling out onto his stomach, the sound of Tony’s orgasm burning in his gut.

He breathes unsteadily as the sounds next door fade, shame creeping up until he rolls and buries his face into the sheets and sobs.

It feels like his heart is breaking apart in his chest, and all he wants is to go home.

—————

They don’t talk about it.

Peter and the other Avengers sign the Accords and attend parties and meetings and Tony is always there beside him, but not _there._ Natasha eyes them speculatively but blessedly doesn’t say anything, just gives Peter a soft look and a comforting squeeze on the arm before going and talking quietly with Rhodey.

They’re at a party when Peter sees Jason again, flushing crimson when the older man winks at him. He hadn’t noticed it before but he bears a passing resemblance to Tony—dark hair, dark eyes, and structured beard. He’s taller than Tony, broader too, but still, Peter should have realized it sooner.

He drinks a little too much and flirts with a waiter, smirking when he finds Tony and Jason watching him; hungry, dark looks in their gazes. Or maybe that’s just what he wants to see there.

Once again Tony pulls him out of the party, muscling him into the hallway and then the elevator, but this time he goes with Peter, shaking his head and pacing in the small confines of the elevator.

“Christ Peter, what the hell were you thinking? You do realize that Jason was using you? That he went to the tabloids and told them all about your little tet a tet?” Tony snarls, stepping too close to glare down at Peter. Peter firms his chin and glares back, anger and want burning in his gut.

“So what?!” he snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

“So… _So what_? Tony repeats, looking thunderstruck. They stare at each other until the elevator opens on their suite and Peter storms past him; who is Tony to care? He sees Peter as a kid, someone too immature and naive to make good choices, nothing like the adult he’s been growing into.

“Peter stop, you need to understand.”

“Oh I understand Tony. I understand that it’s fine for you to fuck whoever you want but if I have anything close to a one night stand I’m an idiot, right? Peter Parker, too young to know better,” he growls, advancing on Tony, “too childish to know what he wants!” he spits as he crowds Tony against a wall, glaring up at him.

“Kid, that’s not what I’m saying,” Tony says, mouth turning down unhappily. He lifts a hand towards Peter and he ducks back, shoves it away, knocking Tony back into the wall with more force than he intended and he hears Tony gasp, sees the way his body arches and his eyes are dark as night and… _holy shit._..Tony’s _turned on_ by his strength.

It’s such a revelation that he’s frozen, standing there staring at Tony, breathing unsteadily, eyes dark and hungry, an air of expectation growing with each moment till Peter snaps and launches himself at Tony.

Hands grasping at his hair and shoulders and shirt, desperate for every inch he can get his hands on, mouth hungry and sloppy against Tony’s. There’s a brief moment of hesitation and then Tony’s kissing him back, groaning and putting his hands on Peter’s waist, yanking him closer.

Peter rolls his hips and pants against Tony’s mouth, yanking open his shirt and sending buttons scattering as he rakes his nails over Tony’s chest, eliciting a low groan from the older man and his fingers curl into Tony’s waistband, tugging and pulling till they’re stumbling into Peter’s room.

Tony groans as Peter maneuvers him, shoving him down onto the bed with a small push. He stares up at Peter with dark hungry eyes and falls back on his elbows, thighs spreading and Peter moans softly at the debauched sight before him.

Shucking his jacket with shaking hands he tosses it aside and leans down into Tony, hands on his shoulders as he kisses him, straddles him, presses him into the bed with little effort. “Fuck, Peter,” Tony gasps as he rolls his hips into Tony’s, just one of his hands holding Tony down to the bed.

Peter licks into Tony’s mouth and then trails his lips down, biting and sucking, panting as Tony moans and arches into him, hands firm on his hips as he grinds down into Tony’s erection. “You fucked that woman when you should have fucked me,” he hisses in Tony’s ear, follows it up with a punishing bite to his throat, marking his skin deeply before sucking and turning it purple.

Tony groans and bucks his hips, a low whine in the back of his throat as he nods, “Fuck Pete, yea, yea,” he agrees. Peter makes a soft aroused sound and leans back, grabs the lapels of Tony’s shirt and hauls him up, manhandling him as he strips off his ruined shirt, rips off his belt and yanks his pants down.

Tony groans and arches into him, panting, pupils wide and dark and he looks, god, _so good._ Peter leans back down and sucks a mark onto his collarbone, “You like it when I use my strength, don’t you?” he whispers against Tony’s skin, smirking when the older man moans in agreement.

“Jesus Christ Pete, yea,” Tony gasps, shuddering when Peter licks and then sucks at his nipple, toying with the other before switching, relentless and hungry for every sound that comes from between Tony’s bitten and wet lips.

“Fuck! Oh _**god**_ , Peter,” Tony whines, hips rolling up so Peter can feel how hard he is in his briefs. He trails kisses and bites over Tony’s torso, paying close attention to the skin around the reactor until Tony’s shuddering and trembling, eyes bright with emotion when Peter slows and presses a kiss squarely in the middle of it.

“That’s mine,” Peter whispers possessively, tapping his fingers against Tony’s sternum, “mine,” he repeats, leaning up to kiss Tony deeply, fingers tight around his hips and tangling in his thick dark hair. He takes no small amount of pleasure in the sound Tony makes in the face of Peter’s possessiveness and the way his fingers turn the normally quaffed hair into something messy and wrecked.

He wants to do that to the rest of Tony, aches for it, _needs_ it.

He strips his shirt and shoves his pants down far enough that he can get a hand on his cock, grinding his ass down into Tony’s still trapped erection so he can hear him moan again.

He strokes slow and steady for a minute and then leans back to wiggle Tony’s briefs down so he can get his cock out too and, “God Tony, look how wet you are, like a girl,” he groans, running his fingers through all the slick on the older man’s skin.

Tony shivers and moans, bucks his hips up and writhes in the sheets as Peter rocks his hips forward so their cocks slide together with a slick sound. He does it a few more times, watching greedily as Tony moans and arches into him.

When he’s so hard he’s shaking Peter grabs their cocks in one hand and starts stroking, shuddering at the sensation. Tony babbles beneath him about how good it is, _harder_ and _faster_ and _please._

He pins one of Tony’s shoulders down with one hand, grinning when the older man moans at the display of strength, “Next time I’m gonna hold you down and ride you till I cum and then we’ll see about taking care of you if you’re good.”

“Fuck! I’ll be good, promise, please Peter, please!”

Peter grins and leans down to kiss and bite at Tony’s throat, “I’m gonna cum soon Tony, if you don’t cum now you don’t cum at all.”

Tony whines and shudders, thrusting his hips minutely but without much success and Peter laughs hotly against his neck, “You’re so weak Tony, I could hold you down and do whatever I wanted to, and you’d love it, wouldn’t you?”

Tony moans and nods and Peter leaves another mark on his chest, “Yea, you’re a slut for me, aren’t you?”

Tony goes rigid, eyes rolling back in his head as strangled moans die behind his teeth, cock twitching and spilling in Peter’s hand. Peter curses and strokes their cocks harder, faster, the heat in his belly crawling up his spine as Tony writhes under him, quickly growing overstimulated.

Hitching sobs wrack Tony’s chest as Peter cums, aiming their cocks so it spills over the reactor, joining Tony’s cum there to stain the blue light with white.

Releasing them both, Peter leans back, breathing hard as he watches Tony gasp, eyes closed and shivering beneath him. Bending down he licks through the mess on Tony’s chest, smirking when the older man’s eyes open to watch him, lips parted around breathy gasps.

Gathering their combined mess on his tongue he leans forward and kisses Tony, letting him taste it. The older man groans and fists a hand in Peter’s hair, hips rolling at the filthy act.

“You’re mine Tony,” Peter whispers against his lips, “mine.”

Tony nods weakly and rolls to the side when Peter slumps down beside him, pressing a grin into the sheets as the younger man spoons him.

“Yours,” he agrees softly, eyes falling shut as lips press to his sweaty neck.

“Yours.”


End file.
